


City of Lies

by IronStakes (CastIronCrack)



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: And lots of people are evil, Beta Read, F/M, Heads up people die, Its a city of lies, Or at least mean, Revenge, Violence, ba da ching, tags update with the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-23 02:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30048675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastIronCrack/pseuds/IronStakes
Summary: Cleo just wanted to focus on her research. And get revenge- nobody messed with Zombie Labs.She certainly never wanted to be a superhero, but what else do you call the least evil super in a city caked in deceit and crawling with the corrupt?*****Fair warning people die. Some cursing. The chapters are short.
Relationships: Eventual Cleo/Tango
Kudos: 7





	1. Sick of Spiders

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously fiction. I use flames to cook chicken. Constructive criticism is always welcome though. Enjoy :)

Cleo was sick of cave spiders. She left the decapitated head of one laying in a dish on the lab table, absently counting how many caps she’d need. With a smooth, practiced motion she lifted the tray of the strangely shaped tubes, their needles pointing skywards, and turned to the sample bay. That’s when the explosions began, their resounding roars deafening Cleo as the ground shook and she toppled, the sample tray dropping as she twisted and fell. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her pulse a drumbeat beneath her skin as she registered the flickering lights and dust falling from the ceiling. She pushed herself to her knees and almost didn’t notice the numerous needles sticking out of her side, most of their plungers pushed inwards to various degrees and lacking the amount of samples and solutions they should have contained. She pulled them out by the fistful and the door opened with a bang as it hit the wall.

“Cleo!” Carol exclaimed, rushing to her side.

“Get out of here Carol,” she snarled in response, worry for her friend overtaking her.

“Not without you,” the other woman snarled right back just as fiercely. With a wry smile Cleo accepted the hand Carol offered her and the ground shook again. The fume hood shattered, spraying them with shards of glass. Smoke began to tickle Cleo’s nose. She grabbed Carol and the two sprinted for the door and into the hall like the hounds of hell were after them. It was deserted- these were their personal labs, after all.

The walls quaked and the smoke grew thick but they made it out. Once they’d escaped the crumpling lab and made it across the street they leaned against each other, the blaze just growing visible as it began to climb the sides of the building. Another explosion detonated and while terrifying inside, it was just as horrendous from the outside; plumes of colorful fire erupted in a collage of reds, greens, blues, and yellows, demolishing the glass windows and blowing chunks of brick, concrete, and stone at them and into the street. They couldn’t do anything but watch as their Central Lab went up in flames.

*

“That was a reptilian experimentation room!” Cleo barked at the workers as they pulled a door open. “They might have survived so be careful. We wouldn’t want anyone to die.”

In the aftermath of the terrible attack on their lab Cleo insisted that cleanup and reconstruction begin immediately. Carol agreed and then protested when Cleo revealed her intentions to oversee everything. Cleo could not be persuaded and Carol relented, knowing the other woman long enough to recognize the relentless energy thrumming through her demanding she do something. Cleo directed and hassled the cleanup crew until they left at sundown and was right back at the ruins of their Central Lab by daybreak. Each day that passed saw Cleo growing paler- sicker. Whispers speculated stress and shock. Her lab, her pride and joy, utterly decimated. Who wouldn’t be in a poor state?

Carol thought otherwise. “I know you’re sick Cleo. Take a break,” the green haired woman pleaded on day five. Cleo refused. She stubbornly oversaw the excavation of her precious lab until she couldn’t stand. She slept fitfully for two days and Carol split her attention between Cleo and their lab. When Cleo suddenly recovered two days after her collapse, she felt different. Stronger. She didn’t remember that she’d been impaled on several needles during the attack until she lifted a portion of fallen wall that the cleanup crews couldn’t.

She didn’t remember what she’d been doing, the day of the attack turning into a nightmarish haze in her memories, and there was no way to know, her lab being one of the rooms that had been reduced to little more than ashes. Her records were gone. So, Cleo decided to test herself, to see what she could and couldn’t do. Over the course of the following week Cleo discovered that she could climb walls in addition to her strength. Her eyes felt different but that didn’t impede her from realizing she now had fangs. She did recall that she had been working with cave spiders and sure enough, when she tested her newfound fangs, she determined that she could secrete a _very_ toxic substance.

While fascinating she deemed it all quite pointless. What good was superstrength or the ability to stick to walls?

The answer came to her when a grey bearded reporter from the Hermiton Herald asked about any future measures or plans in the event of another attack. She replied that of course they had plans as her mind whirled. Why didn’t she find the bastards and make them pay? She could now. After concluding the interview Cleo had already chosen a course of action and dove into creating a super identity. Supers were hardly regulated and difficult to identify more often than not. She could work near unimpeded so long as she donned a mask and remained vague.

She chose dark blue, a navy almost black, and white as her colors, created a versatile web from an older spider experiment at another of their labs, and sat satisfied as her spider suit lay completed in her underground lab. ‘It’s funny how done I was with spiders. Now look at me. Part spider,’ she mused to herself. A bloodthirsty grin split across her face as she equipped the web shooter and took aim at a target across the lab. Nobody messed with Zombie Labs. _Nobody_.


	2. The Marauding Mayor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast beta read ^_^  
> He misread the first chapter's title as "Chick of Spiders" and I was like you know what bro? That's perfect.  
> Also do check out Love Tropics, it's a real charity event!

It had been almost a month since the destruction of the Central Lab, almost two weeks since Cleo had resolved to take revenge. She hadn’t made any progress and her frustration was mounting as was evidenced by her pestering and micromanaging of the cleanup crews. The lab was mostly cleaned out, the rubble cleared and dangerous materials neutralized then removed. Like clockwork Cleo arrived to oversee the progress. Occasionally a reporter would ask her questions for a follow up article of the attack, but her story was the same. Improvement was slow but being made. Something like this wasn’t going to happen again.

This routine Cleo had settled into was ruined late one evening as she saw the crews off for the night and the mayor approached her when the last of them pulled away.

Mayor Keralis was a brightly dressed man with a bit of scruff and bulging, popping eyes. It was a wonder she hadn’t noticed him in the falling darkness; his suit seemed to glow in the dim streetlights.

He smiled charmingly and approached her.

“ZombieCleo of the wonderful Zombie Labs! It’s a pleasure. I’m Keralis, the mayor. But you knew that,” he said, laughing. Cleo thought he was a tad awkward.

“Mayor Keralis,” she returned with a slow nod.

“What’re you doing out here day after day? Surely your company needs you elsewhere, no? Never mind, it’s not my business. But! A pretty lady out all alone is. I walk you home?” he offered.

Cleo’s brows had risen higher and higher as the mayor spoke. “No offense Mayor Keralis, but I don’t think you were just out for a stroll in _this_ part of the city at _this_ particular hour. Why are you here?” she asked bluntly.

He offered her his arm. “Cleo, Cleo, so suspicious! Can’t a mayor take a walk with one of his beautiful citizens?” he asked with a pout.

“No, not really,” Cleo said.

Keralis’ expression changed, his good humor vanishing. “Good enough! Let’s go, we talk business. You haven’t had luck finding the people responsible for blowing your lab up, right?”

Cleo hadn’t been expecting that, though perhaps she should have. Face blank she took the mayor’s arm and the two began to amble down the street, for all appearances nothing but a couple taking a late stroll. “Talk, Mr. Mayor, if you would,” Cleo half demanded, voice clipped but quiet. 

“I know you’re not the type to let someone get away with blowing your lab to smithereens. I want to help. This is good for me too,” he added at her unimpressed look, “I think, no, I’m _sure_ these are the same people after me. I’ve dealt with them before and I know they didn’t get whatever they wanted. They will be back.”

“What do you think they wanted?” Cleo questioned, wondering how the mayor could possibly know.

“I’m not sure but they left you alive meaning whatever it is, they don’t have it yet. They would’ve just killed you otherwise,” Keralis explained frankly, pleasant tone belied by his sinister words.

This was the best lead she’d had in two weeks. Heart thrumming she asked, “And who are they?”

Keralis glanced around, bug eyes swiveling. “Supervillains,” he said from the corner of his mouth, “and I have an idea to draw them out. You are interested, yeah?”

“That entirely depends on your plan,” responded Cleo.

“It’s easy- we make ourselves targets and draw them out. I have a- I know a superhero,” Keralis corrected, “and we’d be fine.”

“Mmhm,” Cleo hummed. “And how exactly do you plan to ‘draw them out’? Aren’t we already targets according to you?”

The mayor wasn’t put off by her skepticism. “It’s simple! We go to the Annual LoveTropics Charity Event together and they’ll think we’re teaming up. They won’t like that. They’ll try to scare us apart.”

“You’ll have to clarify because it sounds like you’re going to try and make these villains attack us,” Cleo said.

“That’s the plan. Then the hero swoops in!” Keralis agreed, all too cheerful for a man who apparently wanted to be supervillain bait.

“And why would us working together unsettle them?”

“I’m the mayor Cleo,” Keralis said humorlessly, “I can station officers at your labs. I can protect you and make their jobs harder. You co-own the most successful biotech company in the city, a company notorious for its cures and ills in equal measure. You could be making something for me to use against them. We’re powerful people alone, but together Cleo? They have something to fear.”

Cleo had her suspicions but hearing Keralis spell it out only confirmed what she’d suspected. “They’ve been after you for a while, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Cleo snorted. “And why not just approach me with a proposal like that? Protection for weapons?”

“You wouldn’t have agreed and we both know it.”

“Damn right.”

The two continued walking, silhouetted ghosts wandering the streets.

“So,” Cleo said after a minute of silence, “the Annual LoveTropics Charity Event?”

*

“Carol I need help,” pleaded Cleo as she barged into the kitchen where Carol was stirring a pot of pinkish soup.

“Cleo? What’s wrong?” her friend asked worriedly, tapping the spoon on the rim of the pot and placing it in a holder next to the stovetop.

“I’m the mayor’s date to the LoveTropics charity thing,” she blurted.

Carol stared at her. “I think I misheard you?” she hesitantly asked.

“It’s for revenge! Our company! Bad guys and stuff, that’s why. But Carol, the event. Dress nice? Shoes? I’m not wearing heels. How fancy? I don’t know Carol, you always handle this stuff,” Cleo prattled without pause. “Revenge or not I refuse to embarrass our company.”

“Why don’t we switch out? I know you hate those things,” suggested Carol.

“Absolutely not Carol,” Cleo snapped, “not with everything going on. Carol your _health_.”

Carol held her hands up in an ‘I surrender’ gesture. “Just a thought. But yeah, I guess you have a point. Lately…”

Cleo’s tension drained and she approached Carol, wrapping her in a hug. Carol hugged her back.

“I didn’t mean to come across as-“

“Cleo I know. And I appreciate it, I really do. I know you despise these things but you’re going anyway, so thank you.”

“People,” the redhead grumbled.

“But revenge,” refuted Carol.

“Yeah. Revenge is good.”


	3. Charity Catastrophe I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up splitting this into two parts and I'm sure this type of thing will happen again. I thought this chapter was too slow and Cast thought it was too fast. 
> 
> Heads up bombs and stuff.

Cleo trusted Keralis as far as she could throw him. She immediately got to making back up plans, creating and scrapping devices and trinkets to help her if things went sour. She had forgotten about her enhanced abilities and super suit, and by the time she remembered them it was too late. Carol had already selected something for her, a shoulderless dress, and there wasn’t any way to hide the suit underneath. She decided to bring it along anyway, just in case.

The charity was being held in a grand plaza in the middle of the city, just four blocks from where the Central Lab used to be. It was tall building with large glass windows and equally large skylights, made from pale and neutral colors with cool accents and warm lights. The floor was cold and tiled and Keralis’ shiny heeled shoes clicked as they walked arm in arm into the center room where the main events were to take place.

Keralis and Cleo mulled about and chatted to the people who came up to them until Keralis slipped away and Cleo was left to meander alone. She wasn’t particularly bothered and stepped outside of the center room, wandering the plaza aimlessly until she came upon a trio.

“ZombieCleo of Zombie Labs, it’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Zedaph,” one of the blonds said, thrusting his hand at her. She took it measuredly. “ZedaphPlays of Contraptions Corporation,” she returned modestly. She nodded at the others. “ImpulseSV of Beacons and Lamps, TangoTek of Toon Tek. The pleasure is mine.”

Impulse grinned and waved while Tango offered her a handshake as Zedaph had, though unlike his friend he stepped closer and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. Impulse mimed gagging behind him.

“What’s a lovely lady like you doing all on your lonesome?” Tango asked with a pleasant smile.

“Well, I _was_ avoiding people such as yourself,” Cleo retorted easily.

“Ok fair, he can be a bit much,” chimed in Zedaph.

“I’ve got to scram, but Cleo said was. Past tense. Sooo…” Impulse said slyly, elbowing their friend.

“I mean it must’ve worked. We’re still holding hands,” Tango chortled as Impulse turned and disappeared into the crowd. Zedaph snickered.

Cleo just raised a brow at the remaining two. “This is not what I was expecting from the famous Tech Triad. I was imagining something dour. Definitely a bit more serious,” she remarked.

“Ah, it’s the evil geniuses in the marketing and PR departments. Our companies are perfectly inefficient and definitely not at all serious,” Zedaph insisted.

Tango laughed. “Have you seen Toon Tek Towers? The place is all primary colors and neon! _Dour_ ,” he repeated with a shake of his head.

They weren’t bad, Cleo decided, though privately she thought they’d have been more amusing if their attention was directed at someone else. She moved to step back but didn’t- Tango still had her hand. She looked down for a moment and then resolved to be unaffected. She was going to make Tango yield first.

Zedaph noticed something that gave her intentions away. “Oh no,” he said with exasperation, “she’s like Impulse.” 

“Crazy overworking, sock-forgetting person who hates mornings?” Tango asked.

“Stupidly competitive,” corrected Zedaph, “though the rest might also be true.”

“Surprisingly so, though I’ve given up on socks,” Cleo said.

Zedaph and Tango burst out laughing and Cleo wasn’t entirely sure why her reply was funny so she just smiled unsurely. Feeling awkward that she was just staring at the laughing men, she scanned the crowd around them. The other attendees spared them a glance or two before moving on with the exception of a strange man with white hair. He watched them with a look of longing that made Cleo feel slightly guilty. ‘He could just come over here. No one is stopping him,’ she grumbled to herself but she smiled at him regardless. He startled for a few moments and then his expression clouded. He sneered and turned, pushing past people as he stalked away.

“What’s his deal?” Tango asked.

Cleo looked back to the blonds. Tango was gazing to where the man had been, as was Zedaph. The latter seemed stricken.

“I should probably go for a bit- I’ll see you around Cleo! Don’t break Tango,” he said in a rush before practically running in the opposite direction.

Tango blinked, processing the sudden turn of events. “I wha-? Well I guess it’s just us.”

“Just you,” Cleo said. “I’ve got to go. The speeches and auction start soon.”

Tango looked to her inquiringly, letting her hand go. Mentally Cleo cheered that she’d outlasted him. “I didn’t know you were speaking tonight,” he said.

“Oh, I’m not,” she shrugged.

Tango was clearly curious, but he didn’t ask as she began to make her way to the center room.

“It was nice talking to you Cleo,” he called as she reached the arching door. Cleo was annoyed he’d shouted across the room at her, but at least the distance meant she didn’t have to reply.

*

Cleo zoned out as Keralis spoke. She tried to not fall asleep out of boredom and began focusing on the crowd. She’d seen Zedaph and recognized one of the reporters as the guy that had interviewed her for the Hermiton Herald, but before she could identify anyone else the faces began blurring together. ‘Keralis, your speeches suck,’ she internally griped as he listed the virtues of the companies contributing to the event for the fourth time. Eventually polite clapping drew her out of her reverie and she followed Keralis off of the stage. With the conclusion of the mayor’s speech the auction could finally begin, and it did so only to end as soon as it commenced; they’d hardly pulled out the first item, an unusually large and evidently rare emerald, when the skylights above them shattered and in dove a darkly dressed figure armed to the teeth with explosives and wielding two long, blunt weapons.

The figure threw the person announcing the auction to the side and snatched the emerald from the pillar it’d been presented on and he, for as far as Cleo could tell it was a he, turned and looked straight at her.

‘Bullocks,’ she thought.

He’d taken a step towards her and she didn’t wait, she turned and ran, only then processing the rapidly emptying room and the screams. She frantically weighed her options before recalling the super suit tucked in her bag. How could she move forwards in getting revenge if she hid the entire time? Deciding there was only one real course of action she backtracked to a locked room she’d passed earlier, effortlessly forced the door open, and began hastily tearing her dress off.

Grumbling, Cleo swore to _not_ agree to anything Keralis proposed ever again as she pulled on her boots. She stashed her dress under a cleaning cart and raced back to the central room. The entryway was completely blown out and smoke curled around the gaping hole where the doors once stood before escaping into the sky like abandon balloons. She could hear explosions coming from outside and she ran into the street. It only took her a moment to realize the blasts were coming from above her. Craning her head back she looked heavenward, and sure enough two shadowy outlines were trading blows in the air, one leaving a trail of detonations behind him as the two leapt back and forth between the roofs of the tallest buildings on the street. She launched herself onto a wall and scaled the side of the building quickly, but not quickly enough to reach the duo before they’d abandon that rooftop in favor of another. Cleo didn’t think they’d noticed her and she vaulted closer to them, curling her hand into a fist and swinging with all her strength at the man that’d stolen the emerald, bashing his side. He grunted and twisted as he fell back, eying her with a snarl.

The other figure landed next to her and they assessed each other. Cleo recognized him as Batralis, a sporadically appearing superhero that while known well enough, didn’t have much of a reputation. She kept him in her peripheral vision as she addressed the emerald snatcher.

“You! Who are you?” demanded Cleo.

“You don’t even know what’s going on? Stay outta this girly,” emerald snatcher said.

“You’re a thief and that’s all the justification anyone needs, really. Now the question is, what else have you done?” Cleo leered, emerald-snatcher’s belt of explosives stark in her mind.

Emerald-snatcher lobbed a small cylinder at them and Cleo dove to the left, Batralis to the right. She landed as the cylinder exploded, clouding the rooftop with thick smoke. That didn’t deter her and she sprang for the villain, popping out from the smokescreen like a rabid jack-in-the-box and catching emerald-snatcher’s back as he tried to escape. He threw her off and the two began trading punches and jabs and kicks, the fighting too close ranged for Cleo to use her webs and for the emerald snatcher to use his weapons. Cleo wasn’t particularly skilled in physical combat but her enhanced reflexes let her keep up well enough.

The two were at a stalemate until a blast of sand blindsided Cleo. She staggered and her hands flew to her face instinctively despite the mask, giving emerald snatcher the opening he needed. There was an unnatural numbness in her left shoulder and next thing Cleo knew she was pinned to the rooftop, a blinking device pressed to her cheek and beeping threateningly into her ear.

**Author's Note:**

> So cliffhanger. Hanging from a cliff. And that's why they call him cliffhanger.


End file.
